well, think that they require a little more attention than others, and so are willing to pay a little extra fee. It is, however, contrary to the rules of the station for the porters to receive any thing; and, if they take it at all, they try to do it as secretly as possible. I once knew a traveller who offered a porter a shilling openly on the platform; but the porter, observing a policeman near, turned round with his side to the gentleman, and, holding his hand open behind him, with the back of it against his hip and his fingers moving up and down briskly in a beckoning manner, said,—
“We are not allowed to take it, sir—we are not allowed to take it.”
As Mr. George stepped out upon the platform at the London Bridge station his first thought was to find Rollo, who had chosen to come in a second-class car, partly for the purpose of saving the difference in the fare, and partly, as he said, “for the fun of it.” Rollo had a regular allowance from his father for his travelling expenses, sufficient to pay his way in the first-class conveyances; and the understanding was, that whatever he should save from this sum by travelling in the cheaper modes was to be his own for pocket money or to add to his reserved funds.
Mr. George and Rollo soon found each other on the platform.
“Well, Rollo,” said Mr. George, “and how do you like travelling cheap?”
“Pretty well,” said Rollo; “only I could not see out much; but then I have saved six shillings in coming from Dover. That is the same as twelve New York shillings—a dollar and a half. I can buy several pretty things with that to carry home.”
“That’s very true,” said Mr. George.
“Some time I mean to go in the fourth-class car,” said Rollo. “’Tis true we have to stand up all the time like sheep in a pen; but I shall not care for that.”
“Well, you can try it,” said Mr. George; “but now for our luggage.”
The English people always call the effects which a traveller takes with him on the journey his luggage.
Very soon a porter took Mr. George’s trunk from the top of the car.
“Will you have a cab, sir?” said the porter, touching his cap to Mr. George.
“I want to leave my trunk here for a short time under your charge,” said Mr. George. “That is a little out of the line of your duty, I know; but I will remember that when I come for it.”
“All right, sir,” said the porter, promptly, touching his cap again.
He took up the trunk and threw it on his shoulder; and then, followed by Mr. George and Rollo, he walked away to the luggage room. After it had been properly deposited in its place, Mr. George and Rollo went out of the station into the street.
“Are not you going to ride?” said Rollo to Mr. George.
“No,” said Mr. George; “I am going to walk.”
“What’s that for?” said Rollo.
“There are two reasons,” said Mr. George; “one is, I want to show you London Bridge.”
“Well,” said Rollo; “and what is the other reason?”
“The other is,” said Mr. George, “that I do not wish to have the trouble of the luggage while I am looking out lodgings. If I go to a hotel and leave my luggage there and take a room, and then go and look up lodgings, we have the hotel bill to pay, without getting much benefit from it; and, if we take the luggage on a cab, we might go to a dozen different places before we find a room to suit us, and so have a monstrous great cab fare to pay.”
“Yes,” said Rollo; “I understand. Besides, I should like to walk through the streets and see the city.”
As our two travellers walked along towards London Bridge, Mr. George explained to Rollo what is stated in the first chapter in respect to the double character of London.
“What we are coming to now, first,” said he, “is the city—the commercial capital of the country. In fact, it may almost be said to be the commercial capital of the world. Here are the great docks and warehouses, where are accumulated immense stores of merchandise from every quarter of the globe. Here is the bank, with its enormous vaults full of treasures of gold and silver coin, and the immense legers in which are kept accounts with governments, and wealthy merchants, and great capitalists all over the world. Here is the post office, too, the centre of a system of communications, by land and sea, extending to every quarter of the globe.
“The chief magistrate of the city,” continued Mr. George, “is called the lord mayor. He lives in a splendid palace called the Mansion House. Then there is the great Cathedral Church of St. Paul’s, and a vast number of other churches, and chapels, and hospitals, and schools, all belonging to, and supported by, the commercial and business interests which concentrate in the city. You will find a very different set of buildings and institutions at the West End.”
“What shall we find there?” asked Rollo.
“We shall find there,” said Mr. George, “the palace of the queen; and the houses of Parliament, where the lords and commons assemble to make laws for the empire; and the Horse Guards, which is a great edifice that serves as head quarters for the British army; and the Admiralty, which is the head quarters of the navy; and the private palaces of the nobles; and the parks and pleasure grounds that connect and surround them.”
About this time Mr. George and Rollo began to come in sight of London Bridge; and very soon afterwards they found themselves entering upon it. Rollo was, for a time, quite bewildered with astonishment at the extraordinary aspect of the scene. They came out upon the bridge, from the midst of a very dense and compact mass of streets and houses, on what is called the Surrey side of the river; and they could see, dimly defined through the murky atmosphere, the outlines of the city on the other side. There were long ranges of warehouses; and innumerable chimneys, pouring forth black smoke; and the Monument; and spires of churches; and, conspicuous among the rest,—though half obscured by murky clouds of smoke and vapor,—the immense dome of St. Paul’s, with the great gilded ball and cross on the top of it.
The bridge was built of stone, on arches, and was of the most massive and ponderous character. There was a roadway in the centre of it, on which two continued streams of vehicles were passing—one on the left, going into the city; and the other on the right, coming out. On each side were broad stone sidewalks, formed of massive blocks of granite, feeling solid and heavy under the tread as if they had been laid upon the firm ground. These sidewalks were crowded with passengers, who were going, some into, and some out of, the city, so as to form on each sidewalk two continuous streams. On each side of the bridge, towards the water, was a solid parapet, or wall. This parapet was about as high as Rollo’s shoulders. Here and there, at different places along the bridge, were groups of people that had stopped to look over the parapet to the river. Each group formed a little row, arranged along the parapet, with their faces towards the water.
“Let us stop and look over,” said Rollo.
“No,” said Mr. George, “not now; we will wait till we get to the middle of the bridge.”
So they walked on. When they had proceeded a little way, they came to a place where there was a sort of niche, or recess, in the parapet, perhaps ten or fifteen feet long, and four or five deep, from the sidewalk. There were stone seats extending all around the sides of this recess; and these seats were full of boys and men, some with burdens and some without, who had stopped and sat down there to rest. Rollo wished to propose to Mr. George that they should stop and sit down there too; not because he was tired, but only to see how it would seem to be seated in such a place. He did not propose this plan, however, for he saw at a glance that the seats were all occupied, and that there was no room.
A